


hopeless hearts just passing through

by sammyspreadyourwings



Series: 2019 DL Stocking Stuffers [7]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Asexual Brian May, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Communication Failure, Depressed Brian May, Established Relationship, Lack of Communication, M/M, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Protective Freddie Mercury, Protective Roger Taylor (Queen), Questioning John Deacon, Sad Brian May, Sad John Deacon, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22089250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: He doesn’t remove himself from Freddie’s shoulder to look up, but he squeezes to let him know that it isn’t exactly not because of him. After all, he is the one that upset John so badly he bolted for nearly two weeks.
Relationships: Brian May/Freddie Mercury, John Deacon/Brian May/Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Series: 2019 DL Stocking Stuffers [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583506
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71





	hopeless hearts just passing through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleepydeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepydeaky/gifts).



> Title from "I was made for loving you"  
> Another stocking stuffer, is anyone else surprised? No? Okay  
> This was a really fun take on a soulmate au, it seems like all I do is write saddish soulmate aus when I do write them.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Brian tucks himself into Freddie’s chest. Freddie rubs his back humming a quiet melody. Brian hides his face in the silk of Freddie’s robe and tries to block out the noises beyond their hotel room. Namely, Roger’s raging. He winces as he hears another loud thud.

He tries to picture the spiraling design from the path Freddie’s hand is taking.

“It isn’t because of you, love,” Freddie whispers.

He doesn’t remove himself from Freddie’s shoulder to look up, but he squeezes to let him know that it isn’t exactly _not_ because of him. After all, he is the one that upset John so badly he bolted for nearly two weeks.

Freddie strokes his hair.

After a few more minutes the loud thudding quiets and he hears something heavy being thrown onto the bed. He shoots out of Freddie’s grasp and towards Roger’s room. Without pause, he shoves open the door only to see that Roger had thrown himself onto the bed and not a duffle bag.

Roger’s bright blue eyes peek up at him and Brian shrinks. He watches Roger’s lip wobble and steps back. He hadn’t meant to hurt Roger like this. All he wanted to do was help John. After all, he knew John wasn’t doing himself any favors in the long run.

Freddie wraps around his waist and he pushes out of the grasp. He wants to be comforted, and he loves Freddie, but Freddie would accept most of what he does with open arms. He looks back at Roger who is sitting up with a mild frown.

Roger curls his fingers in a come-hither motion. Freddie squeezes his shoulder before nudging him into the room. Brian wants to protest and turn away. Hell, he wants the be the one that leaves with an obscure note saying he’s visiting family for the next few weeks and then fade away and never return.

Brian jumps when he feels Roger’s arms wrap around him. He fights it for a second thinking that Roger is going to take advantage of the position and hurt him. Roger backs off quickly with his mouth parted and arms pull far away. In fact, he nearly scrambles to the other side of the bed.

“Bri, I’m _sorry,_ I would never – not – I don’t know what I did to make you think that I would, but I won’t.”

He shakes his head. It’s a little clearer now, and he knows that Roger wouldn’t. He might get angry, but he rarely does anything that would hurt. Well, hurt permanently – he not so fondly remembers the time that Roger’s sprayed hair spray in his direction and Brian turned into it.

“No, it wasn’t –“ Brian sighs.

He can’t do anything right. Roger crawls back on the bed and grabs his hand, blue blossoms from that contact, kissing his knuckles. Brian shies away from the contact and pulls his hands to his chest. He tries to hide the color. Roger sticks his bottom lip out but drops his hands to the bed. Brian steps away and places his back against the wall.

Roger glances at Freddie who leans against the door frame. Brian tucks his head into his palms. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut for once? Now everything is ruined and they’re finally getting on their feet with the band and he has gone and blown it. His eyes burn, he presses his palms against them pushing back the tears.

“Freddie? Can you give us a minute?”

Brian shakes his head. He doesn’t want to have a minute with _anyone._ If his legs were working, he would have gotten to the living room and out of the door by now. He presses his palms tighter to his eyes. If Freddie responded he doesn’t hear it.

Firm hands wrap around his wrists. They don’t pull but are firm in their grip. Brian tugs against it but he doesn’t force them to budge. Instead, he focuses on not crying. Breathe in… hold for three… let out for eight. Repeat.

“Bri,” Roger says softly, “I know you and John had a spat… is that why you’re upset he left?”

Brian doesn’t answer. It isn’t because they had a _spat._ He and John have a lot of spats. Spats they can move past. This time John was well and truly upset with him. Brian’s never heard him raise his voice or hear his voice break and this time he heard both as John shouted for him to leave.

“Do you think John left because of you?”

Roger sounds upset. Not angry. Not yet at least. Brian bites his cheek. He can just pull the band-aid off now instead of hoping John will forgive him and Roger won’t be too mad with him.

“I know he left because of me.”

Roger squeezes, “why do you think that?”

Brian shrugs. Roger is talking to him as though he is a child.

“Maybe it’s because he said he didn’t want anything to do with me?” Brian spits.

He is surprised at the anger he has managed to form. John leaving him is fine, whatever relationship the four of them were heading to was ruined, fine. He’s upset that he left _Roger,_ his _boyfriend,_ alone with no reasoning behind his sudden departure. Roger who already has trouble accepting that people might want to stick around.

“John said that?” Roger asks quietly.

“Yeah.”

Roger’s thumbs rub on his wrist and slowly Brian lowers them. Even in the low light, the blue lines are clear as day. For a moment he wins out against the urge to meet Roger’s gaze, but slowly he raises his eyes to meet his. All he can see is concern winning out against anger. Brian bites his lip and looks away.

“Talk to me Brimi.”

Brian shakes his head again. The words getting stuck in his lungs. Instead, he finds the strength to stand. Roger rises with him and he looks towards the door. Roger steps back and looks to the door.

“The offer is going to stand, okay?”

He nods his head and hurries back into his and Freddie’s room. Freddie catches him and they sprawl on the bed. Brian checks to make sure the door is closed before he kisses up Freddie’s neck and to his lips. When Freddie doesn’t immediately push him away Brian’s hands skim down his sides. That’s when Freddie catches his wrists.

“Brimi?”

Brian shakes his head and tries to continue his goal.

“Brian, no.”

He stops and rolls off of Freddie. Hot shame rises in his cheeks and he looks away. Of course, Freddie wouldn’t let him.

“Care to explain what you’ve gotten tangled up in?”

Brian gestures vaguely.

Freddie looks around the room, “Whatever you and John fought about?”

Brian nods.

Freddie hum and reaches up to stroke his hair. Brian shies away from the contact and pushes himself to the corner of the bed. If he isn’t careful he will end up falling on the floor, but he can’t really stand to have anyone touching him at the moment. He doesn’t get why they’d want to touch him in the first place.

“Ah. It’s about that.”

Brian looks up. Had he spoken any of that out loud?

“No, Brimi,” Freddie says softly, “I might know you well enough to guess how you feel.”

Brian shrinks back, hiding his face behind his knees and stealing a glance of himself at the vanity. Faintly the marks Roger hand left are starting to fade. He doesn’t want them to, but he knows to get them to stay… well, he hasn’t been able to do that with even Freddie yet.

“Did John… say something?” Freddie asks just as quietly.

He shakes his head.

Freddie lets out a frustrated huff, “Brian, I want to help you. You know I do… but you’re going to have to use words.”

Brian shakes his head again. Patient, lovely, Freddie sighs and walks out of the room. He stares at the door once it closes again and Brian hides underneath the blanket. He doesn’t need to see how his hands have changed colors from where he stroked Freddie. When he closes his eyes he can imagine Freddie’s smile fading at his soft purple slowly fades from his skin.

* * *

It takes him several hours (which Freddie later tells him was a day and a half) to emerge from their bedroom. Roger and Freddie are curled up around each other. Freddie’s yellow is staining Roger’s neck from where his thumb strokes idly and he can see Roger’s blue on the back of Freddie’s hands.

Brian hurries back into the bedroom.

* * *

Eventually, he feels numb enough that whatever jabs they throw at him are going to sting much much later. Likely when they throw him out of the flat and kick him out of the band.

(Freddie tells him it was another day before he came out the second time).

This time he doesn’t have a chance to run away as Roger catches his eyes from the hallway. Freddie is playing with Roger’s bongos, slapping them more than making any rhythm while Roger chews on the end of a pen while staring at a sheet of paper. His glasses are pushing his fringe up.

Brian’s heartaches. He rubs his chest before stepping into the room, as he does so he closes the door. Right now he wants to be part of the only other two people in the world. Carefully he steps around the thought that his world should be four people.

He sits on the edge of the bed away from Roger and Freddie. They both turn to him, and Freddie uses Roger’s ankle to steady himself as he turns around. Yellow spirals out from that point of contact and once Freddie lifts his hand it fades quickly. Brian swallows. This isn’t fair to any of them. John’s words ring in his ears.

Brian looks at the bedside table. He remembers taking the photo there. Roger is jumping over John or at least using him for leverage in the jump, but his palm is right on the bare skin between John’s shoulder and neck. It’s been there for a while because of how prominent the blue halo is. Next to it is a strip of photos from a photo booth Freddie dragged them into. The last one is the one Brian likes the most.

Freddie’s hands are on Roger and John’s face, cheeks smushed together and colored yellow. Roger had a hand on Freddie and Brian, although Freddie leaned back in laughter and only Roger’s finger is pressed against his jaw. Brian looks as though he is leaning into the touch and his gaze confirms it. Meanwhile, Brian had a hand on John’s face, tiny fingerprint spots forming across his forehead as John fights to push away his hand and he is stroking a finger down the side of Freddie’s face leaving a trail of purple. John, on the other hand, is holding Brian’s chin as though he seconds away from guiding Brian’s face to his for a kiss and his other one is pushing back Roger’s fringe leaving a partial green print on his temple.

It’s a mess of limbs and laughter and Brian can’t believe he has caused this to break apart.

Roger and Freddie haven’t asked anything from him yet. They’re watching him and Brian can’t fight the sobs the bubble out from his lungs. Freddie moves towards him, pulling him halfway into his lap. Brian sees the yellow spin-out from Freddie’s thumbs before fading away.

He sobs harder. Brian doesn’t know how long he sobs, but by the time he calms down, he is aware of Roger stroking next to his ankle bone. Brian can picture the tiny line of blue. Freddie pats his eyes dry with a handkerchief (which Brian doesn’t know where it came from) and Roger hands him a tissue with which he wipes his nose dry. Brian flushes. He hadn’t meant to cry so grossly on them.

“It’s okay, love,” Freddie kneads one of his shoulders.

“Ready to talk to us?” Roger tilts his head.

Brian is, but now that he is thinking about it, he doesn’t know that he can. It is, in a sense, John’s secret. If he hasn’t told Roger, and Brian is certain he hasn’t, then Brian would be forcing him to address something that he may not be ready to come out about. Except, he knows it’s important to the health of their relationship going forward.

Freddie kisses his neck.

“I – our row – it was…” Brian stops.

There is a lot that would be missing in his explanation.

“Look at you.”

Brian turns his head so fast it sends a lance of pain down his spine. Standing in the doorway is John. He looks like he has rolled out of bed and driven for a few hours, he is wearing the lightning bolt pajama bottoms Brian bought him for his birthday this year and a long jumper that he stole from Rog’s “sad day” collection.

“Fallin’ apart without me,” John says with a tiny smile.

His voice sounds grave and his accent is stronger than it normally is. Brian squints his eyes and sees that there is a tiny amount of puffiness around John’s eyes. It would be too much to ask that John is crying about him, but more of like what could have been. Brian attempts to pull away from Freddie, but he is held fast. Even Roger hasn’t moved yet, but the set to his jaw lets Brian know that John might need to duck a pillow.

“Deaky, dear,” Freddie says.

Brian manages to pull away this time. Freddie sounds uncertain. It takes him a moment to realize that it’s because neither Roger or Freddie know if there is a wrong side and if there who is in the wrong. Brian doesn’t even know that.

“I’m sorry,” John says, “I had to have time to think.”

“I thought you said two weeks,” Roger says.

John steps back at the touch of annoyance, “I didn’t know how long it would take. I thought it would take longer.”

“To think?”

John nods.

“About what?”

John gestures vaguely.

Brian understands though.

“Can I have a chat with you, Brian?”

He stands and trips over the blanket hanging off the side of the bed. Roger manages to steady him. Brian doesn’t look at the fading blue when he looks back at John. He sees where his eyes have gone. Brian covers the mark and steps out into the hallway.

“Let’s go to the kitchen?”

Brian nods. It's only then that he recalls how greasy his hair is and that he hasn’t taken a shower in a few days. He is also wearing the same clothes as that morning. He must look a mess, and instead pulls the hair tie from around his wrist and ties up his hair. It makes him feel a little better to not have those greasy curls in his face.

John fiddles around but doesn’t turn on the kettle. Instead, he pours two glasses of orange juice and hands then hands over one. Brian smiles faintly. John had said his mother used to give it to him and his sister when they were little because orange juice contained sunshine and sunshine makes everyone happy. It’s a silly story, but it makes the fondness detangle from the rest of his confusion emotions.

“I’m sorry,” John says.

Brian looks up, surprised, “that’s my line.”

“We can both apologize,” John shrugs, “and also Roger and Freddie are listening.”

He frowns, about to ask how is certain that the other two followed him when he sees Roger’s blond hair vanish behind the corner. He smiles faintly.

“Talk low?” He asks.

“I don’t think they’ll let me kidnap you.”

“Probably not.”

Brian leans forward and John places his hand over Brian’s. Green expands out from the contact before flowing up his arm. He marks the path, it spins and twists and dots. The pattern that it would leave it exceptionally beautiful. He can picture Roger’s blue and Freddie’s yellow. A field on a summer’s day.

If only he could make it permanent.

John lefts his hand when he sees Brian’s gaze, “I’m sorry.”

Brian shrugs, “as I said, it’s me.”

“But it isn’t just you,” John says.

For a moment all of the air leaves the room. He stares at John and his jaw drops automatically. He closes it and swallows. His face heats up at his own reaction. It was him that brought up the possibility in the first place. John taps on his hand, tiny green dots spread out like rain in a pond.

“You were right, it was unfair for all of us… I should have come out and said it. I didn’t know though.”

Brian shakes his head, “I shouldn’t have made it sound like an ultimatum.”

John smiles faintly, “you were speaking the truth.”

“Stop talking in riddles!” Freddie squawks.

Roger shushes him loudly and they wrestle with each other banding against the wall. John’s smile widens at the antics and Brian’s laughs grow louder. He catches John’s attention now that the others are completely distracted.

“I don’t want to… come out to them yet,” John whispers, “I don’t know that it’s fair to call myself anything.”

Brian shrugs, “it’s better than forcing yourself through something that you don’t want.”

John looks away, “it’d be something I’m willing to do for you and Freddie. Roger especially. I have done it with Roger. Happily even.”

“Just not all the time,” Brian smiles bitterly.

He nods, “you’ve never? Not with Freddie?”

“Never. I can’t get over –“ Brian gestures vaguely.

“What do I do? What do we do? We won’t… the world won’t recognize us as soulmates if we don’t have the patterns.”

“Fuck the world, darling,” Brian mimics Freddie’s voice.

“You sound nothing like him,” John snorts but then his smile falls, “what do I say?”

“I can’t tell you, but you have to say something at least. It isn’t fair to them, to Roger because if you ever do come out, whether you’re asexual or not, it's going to hurt them to know that there were times you didn’t want to, not really.”

“Fair enough,” John clears his throat, “but do they know about you? How’d they take it?”

“Freddie took it as he does all things, at face value,” Brian replies, “and Roger started to figure out boundaries right away.”

“And he likes to hide behind that rock n’ roll attitude.”

Before Brian can respond Roger and Freddie stumble in. They’ve clearly heard the conversation but Brian for the life of him he can’t figure out if they managed to make out what he said. Brian tried to hide the word.

“You guys fought about our status?” Freddie frowns.

Roger tilts his head, “who gives a fuck if we have the marks or not. Its no one else’s business.”

Brian shares a look with John.

“He’s right,” Freddie declares and Roger preens, “so long as we know and love each other, the world doesn’t matter. They’ll still love our music and buy our records.”

“Besides –“ Roger wiggles his eyebrows, “it’ll bring in more girls.”

John rolls his eyes, “more than you being a dentist at least.”

“I switched majors, thank you very much.”

“Still wanted to be a dentist.”

“I never wanted to –“

Brian tunes them out as Freddie walks up to him. They bump noises before Freddie sways with him in a nameless tune. John and Roger keep arguing, for all that it is only John throwing jabs and Roger getting riled up. Freddie kisses him softly.

“Get it worked out?”

“He’s got to do the rest himself.”

“And you’re not dwelling on the fact that we’ll never be able to have those patterns?”

Brian shrugs, “it is partially my fault, but I don’ t feel as bad as I usually do.”

Freddie hums sadly before swaying them out of the way Roger and John’s wrestling. Roger’s foot ends up slipping and they crash to the ground, John managing to keep Roger’s head from smacking the ground. They giggle at each other and Freddie shoots him an exaggerated eye roll mouthing _boys._

Brian snickers. John’s foot accidentally kicks his shin which makes him jump into the middle of it. He attempts to pull John off Roger, which doesn’t work until the drummer jabs his fingers into his ribs. John squeals in laughter and kicks out wildly.

“Freddie, help me!”

Freddie looks at his nails, “I think this is a fair punishment for you up and leaving.”

Roger pauses his attack for a moment, giving John a chance to catch his breath. Freddie joins in after only a few more seconds tickling the bottom of John’s feet. Brian holds the bassist still, watching with a fond smile. Their pattern may never run up their arm, but as long as he can see all their colors light up on each other, Brian finds that he has very little to complain about.

That is until someone’s elbow catches his ribs and knocks the air from his lungs.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, leave your thoughts and comments below, or come talk to me on tumblr!


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